


Introductions

by laurenjauregui



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: F/F, first meeting AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 16:57:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5383217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurenjauregui/pseuds/laurenjauregui
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meeting new people and socialising had never been one of Bonnibel's skills. Especially when the person she has to socialise with is an attractive musician by the name of Marceline Abadeer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Introductions

The clock's little hand hovered over the six, the big one at twelve. Bonnibel glanced to the door as though the knock would come immediately, maybe a ring of the bell or for it to open and her guests to walk straight in. There was nothing.

She kneaded her thighs with her hands in an effort to calm herself down. The guests' lateness really wasn't very assuring at all. She was a rip the Band-Aid off quickly kind of girl. Delaying the inevitable wasn't something she liked doing.

(Meeting new people wasn't something that Bonnie liked doing, either.)

Peter, her father, sent her a soft smile. "Don't worry about this, Bonnibel."

Bonnie sighed to herself. She wished her mother was here – she actually understood Bonnie's social anxiety and realised that she wasn't good with meeting new people – but she'd had to work an extra shift at the hospital.

So Bonnie had to meet her dad's boss and his son by herself.

Fabulous.

"Dad," Bonnie looked back up at the clock again – five past six. The guests would be arriving at any minute. "Can I  _please_  leave? I can camp out at Finn and Jake's place until your boss goes home."

Peter shook his head, but sent her a sympathetic smile in an effort to comfort her. It didn't work very well. She was still jittery, nervous. "I'd like it if you stayed. His son is your age, so maybe you two can hit it off. I don't want him to have to listen to me and Hunson rambling on about the company."

Bonnie raised an eyebrow. She didn't know what he was trying to imply by 'hit it off', but she knew that wouldn't happen. Her social anxiety was worse around people her age. "Yeah, can I  _please_  go and see my friends? This is really making me-"

She didn't get to finish her sentence. The doorbell rang, and was accompanied by sharp knocks.  _One, two, three._

Bonnie sucked in a deep breath through her nose, and let it out through her mouth.  _Don't think about it_. That was what she told herself. She shouldn't think about how uncomfortable she was bound to make the upcoming social situation. She shouldn't think about how she was so tempted to dart up to her bedroom and pretend she didn't exist.

Peter jumped up to answer the door, and Bonnie shifted herself out of sight for the moment. She knew that her dad would be upset with her if she ran up to her bedroom, so she merely put off the interaction for the moment.

(Usually she'd just get it over with, but she knew that this one would be an all-evening kind of thing.)

"Hunson," She could practically  _hear_  her dad's smile. Hunson Abadeer was his best friend and business partner, but Bonnie had always avoided the boring work parties that their company threw around the holidays, so this was her first time meeting him. "Glad you could make it."

"Sorry that we're a little late." Hunson apologised, "Marshall was unable to make it – he had another obligation that he forgot to tell me about."

 _Great_ , Bonnie thought,  _one less person for me to meet_. That was a lovely surprise. She allowed herself half a sigh of relief.

At least, until Hunson kept talking.

"So, I brought my daughter. I feel like your Bonnibel might influence her nicely from what I've heard of her." Although Hunson's tone was upbeat and chipper, Bonnie's stomach turned to iron and plummeted to her feet. In her case, teenage girls were more intimidating than teenage boys.

Her dad's figure came into view in her peripheral. "I'm sure they'll get along just fine. We're sitting just through here."

Bonnie's gaze shot to her feet, but she kept alert. Out of her peripheral vision, she saw Peter enter the room with a taller man in a dark business suit, and a slender female figure trailing behind them.

"Bonnibel," At the sound of her name, Bonnie looked up at her dad, "This is my business partner, Hunson," he gestured to the man in the suit, who had sat down next to him on the adjacent sofa.

He sent her a rigid smile. Bonnie felt the couch dip next to her, but she tried not to pay it any mind. "It's lovely to meet you. This is my daughter, Marceline. She's around your age."

Bonnie glanced to her right to look at the raven haired girl next to her. The girl – _Marceline_  – nodded at her in greeting and sent her a half-hearted smile of someone who really didn't want to be where she was at all, but Bonnie didn't pay any attention to it.

Her eyes swept over Marceline's face, across her pale skin and up to the bright green eyes. She felt a knot in her throat when she took in Marceline's sharp jawline that seemed to have been carved by the heavens themselves and she positively  _envied_  how perfect her eyebrows were.

Realising she was staring, an embarrassed blush crept onto Bonnie's cheeks and she looked back to her feet again, her voice strained and stuttered. "Hello. I'm Bonnibel."

Peter sent her a proud smile and Bonnie prayed that it wasn't all that obvious. "Now that we've been through the introductions, Hunson and I are going to finish planning our next few business objectives for the company."

Bonnie looked up, relief flooding over her. "Oh, I can go upstairs?"

"Yes," Peter confirmed. Bonnie couldn't have jumped up quicker. "I'd like you to take Marceline with you. I'm sure she doesn't want to hear all of our business plans."

Bonnibel's heart sunk and her throat knotted. Words couldn't express how awkward that would be. She sure as hell wouldn't start any conversations with the other girl.

Instead of arguing with her dad, Bonnie just nodded solemnly and made her way out of the living room, the other girl following at her heels.

She pushed her bedroom door open and sat down on her bed, picking up the book she was reading –  _The Bell Jar_  by Sylvia Plath. It was for her lit class at school, and she was only halfway through. No time like the present to get it finished.

Marceline came through the door and Bonnibel looked up at her, licking her lips in nervous habit. "Can you close the door, please?"

"Sure," Marceline spun on her heels to shut the door, and Bonnibel's heart jumped. Her voice was gentle and melodic, yet scratchy and husky. How did that work?

Another shaky reply came from Bonnie as she hid herself behind her book. "Thanks."

She felt her bed dip and glanced over the top of her book to see that Marceline had sat down and was in the process of pulling her phone from her jeans pocket.  _God,_   _she has nice legs._

Bonnie shook her head to get  _that_  thought out of it. Thinking about how nice the cute girl's legs looked in those  _really_  tight jeans probably wasn't a good idea. That wouldn't do anything to soothe her nerves.

(Attractive people were always the most intimidating.)

"So, are you in high school?"

Bonnie froze. She hadn't expected Marceline to make conversation. If she was being honest, all she'd expected was an awkward silence while she read her book. "Um…yeah. I'm a senior."

Marceline hummed. "That's cool. You're eighteen?"

"Seventeen," Bonnie was kind of surprised that she was asking so many questions. She didn't think that she was all that interesting. "Are you?"

"Nope." Marceline replied, popping the 'p'. "I'm nineteen. Graduated high school last June. My brother is your age, though."

Nervously, Bonnie tried to keep the conversation going. "Are you in college?"

"Studying music part-time." Marceline nodded, "The other half of the time I'm playing shows. I used to go to college full time, but things happened and my band started getting big, so I dedicate most of my time to that."

"You're in a  _band_?" Bonnie blurted out, cringing the second it came out.  _Way to sound like a giant nerd_. She just found it a little hard to believe, that an attractive older musician would bother talking to her.

It was probably just politeness – Bonnie knew that – but people who were actually  _cool_  didn't really pay that much attention to her.

Thankfully, Marceline didn't think she was weird for such a dorky comment. She laughed, but it wasn't mean or spiteful. It was soft, so beautiful that Bonnie's stomach performed an overly complicated backflip. "Uh-huh. My best friend and I started it with a couple of guys we met at college. She's on guitar, and I'm bass and vocals."

 _She's cute, she's sweet, and she can sing_ , Bonnie thought, a  _triumvirate._ "That's really cool."

"Thanks," Marceline beamed at her, and again, her stomach decided it was a gymnast and flipped again. "What're you thinking about doing at college? If you're going, that is."

"Oh, science. Specifically chemistry."  _Yes_ , she was aware of how nerdy that was compared to being in a rock band, but she was trying not to care. "I've always loved science, since I was little. My mom's a doctor and I want to follow in her footsteps. Using my knowledge to help people sounds awesome."

"That's cute," Marceline commented. Bonnie didn't know how to take the chosen adjective.  _Cute_? "I kind of miss high school sometimes. I take it you're one of those popular, sociable people, right?"

Bonnibel burst out laughing. Although she used to be very social and she had friends, she really wasn't good at interacting with people. Social anxiety did that to you. "Not at all."

Marceline raised an eyebrow. "You have friends, right? And a boyfriend?"

"Friends, yes," Bonnie confirmed, "Boyfriend, no. I kind of…uh, I'm gay."

"Oh. Girlfriend, then?" Marceline didn't seem to be put off by that, so Bonnie took that positively. "You're cute. I wouldn't be surprised if you had someone."

Bonnie didn't understand why Marceline was so interested, but she answered anyway. And  _why_  did she call her  _cute_  again? "No, I'm single. I'm not very good at…talking to people. I mostly just…stick to the science labs. Keep my head down, stay out of drama."

Marceline smiled, "You're doing fine now."

"Really?" Bonnibel beamed proudly. That was reassuring, considering she'd been dreading this whole thing. There was still a little nervous tremor in her voice, but Marceline apparently hadn't noticed. "That's good to know. I'm glad that I haven't freaked you out."

"Of course not," Marceline gave her a gentle nudge and she jumped slightly, not expecting the sudden contact, "I think you're cute."

Heat crept into Bonnie's cheeks and she fiddled with her shirt, ignoring the way her heart was overcompensating. "You do?"

"I do," Marceline sucked in a deep breath and kept talking, "And I was thinking-"

Bonnie didn't get to find out what she was thinking. There was a shout from downstairs, her dad's voice cutting over Marceline's, calling them for dinner. She scowled, but trailed downstairs and sat down at the table, keeping her head down and not taking part in conversation aside from the occasional 'yes' or 'no', as per usual.

Once dinner was over, Hunson announced at he and Marceline needed to be getting home, and Bonnie's heart sunk. Naturally, she'd been hoping for another chance to talk to Marceline, and ask her what she was going to say earlier. Of course, she could probably do that now. In front of her dad...yeah,  _no._

No matter how much she tried to psych herself up, she couldn't bring herself to ask Marceline what she'd been saying before, so she sat back, watched her walk out of the door and dejectedly made her way up to her room.

She flopped back down onto her bed, but jumped when something crunched underneath her. With a frown, she stood up and peeled her duvet back to find a torn scrap of paper, something messy scrawled on it.

It was a phone number.

She blinked, flipping the sheet over to see something else scribbled on the back.

_Call me. – Marceline._

She dropped the sheet of paper and picked up her phone in a matter of seconds, putting it to her ear. It rang once, twice, three times, suddenly stopping.

Allowing herself a shy smile, she cleared her throat. "Hey, Marceline? It's Bonnie."


End file.
